


Burdens

by Mithlomi



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Spoilers for EP 69, precious children who need to know it's okay to move on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 13:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8209681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithlomi/pseuds/Mithlomi
Summary: Cassandra de Rolo can see a part of herself in the newest addition to Whitestone's ranks.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just borrowing Matt's characters for a bit. Basically I love these precious humans too much...

Cassandra de Rolo does not envy the new guards of Whitestone, but sometimes, she does wonders if it might be easier. Their newfound career finds them undertaking one arduous task after another. They were called upon to do almost everything in this city, with so few men left to help. Training, rebuilding, fighting, standing guard, watching the skies for any sign of impending doom. The first and only defense in this small sanctuary that’s been built and kept safe only by the grace of all the Gods.

Leading has been… a challenge. A mantle that she was certain did not fit her shoulders well. It was much too large, and yet clung to everything, every decision, every word, every glance. Luckily for her, she had many to share her burden. There was Gilmore, with his wit to bring a smile to even the most sober conversation. Allura’s intellect was unmatched and Cassandra, if she were truly honest, could only dream of facing the world with the same grace the mage did. Determined, stubborn Kima, who would hardly be deterred by a measley dragon or two.

And then there was her. Cassandra de Rolo. One of the last to carry a family legacy that was not meant to fall on her or her dear brother. Especially after all they had done. She was not strong, nor brave, nor particularly clever. She flattered herself, she had wits, perhaps, but she did not think duplicity or deception were particularly valued in a leader.

Still, she hopes she is learning. Hopes she might borrow some of her brother’s courage and the strength of the allies around her. Perhaps it is only the immediate nature of the danger they face forcing her to find it, but so far, it seems to be working.

Cassandra de Rolo is slowly, ever so slowly, edging closer to forgiving herself.

And so it’s while Captain Jarrett is showing her around the rebuilt defenses that she recognises something of herself from not so long ago.

She finds it in a young man, a new recruit. She recognises him briefly, from Pike’s temple, hidden amongst the battered souls of a returning Vox Machina. She had been distracted at the time. The terrifying notion that her brother was not among them had almost consumed her and the relief when she saw him, whole if not entirely well, had dismissed any notions of their extra number.

He wordlessly carries rocks from the cart to the stonemasons building their new wall. The work is exhausting and repetitive but while his fellow soldiers laugh and joke and make light of their work, he lingers back. It’s more than just the heavy stone he carries holding him down. There’s darkness in his gaze. He’s haunted, gaunt and much too thin, even for a man with a lithe build. He’s losing himself in repetition, in actions he does not have to think about…

Cassandra understands that.

She interrupts Jarrett’s explanation of the work and points towards the stranger. “That man? Who is he?”

Jarrett pauses for a moment, and Cassandra watches his brow furrow, lips pursed. “Kynan? If I am honest, my Lady, I am not quite sure myself. Vax’ildan charged me with his care although I’m not sure he requires anything I can give him.” Jarrett’s smile fades a little, a sure sign that something was wrong. “I do not know the specifics, my Lady, but I believe… there was an incident. Between him and Vox Machina, while they were seeking the Vestiges. When your brother…”

She nods, cutting him off. She does not need to hear the rest and he would not wish to remind her of it. Cassandra has heard all she needs to. For a heaviness has settled in her heart, one she cannot entirely attribute to thoughts of her brother’s injuries and it’s enough to compel her forward. Jarrett does not stop her.

Kynan does not see her approach. He heaves another rock off the cart and she reaches out to help him bare the load. It’s only then his eyes reach hers and he gasps softly. His grip loosens a little and the stone is too heavy for her alone.

“Quick!” She cries, brow furrowed as she struggles to stop the rock from slipping. “Help me!”

He remembers himself quick enough, reflexes taking over and he shares the weight. Cassandra sighs in relief and chuckles softly, eyes bright. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

He says nothing, eyes darting this way and that, avoiding her entirely. She’s certain Kynan knows who she is and she’d be a fool to think that did not have a bearing on his reaction. Perhaps this was a mistake…

No going back now.

“Shall we?” She nods towards the wall and together, they slowly move forward. more than a little clumsy in their actions. Cassandra can already feel the sweat breaking out on her brow, unused to such physical exertion. She can see why he would find comfort in it though. It makes arms ache and legs struggle and the pain is a welcome relief from the torrent of thoughts that might haunt you.

The stone is set down with a loud thump. A few of the men have stopped their working to stare at her, recognising her well enough. A couple nod their heads in a show of fealty. She ignores them.

“Thank you.” It’s muttered so quietly, she does not realise it has been spoken at first until she looks at him. As soon as she does, his own gaze darts away.

“Why?” she asks softly. “You were doing perfectly well on your own.”

Once again, she’s met with silence, much too thick. He turns, to resume his task and she follows. She too says nothing, simple helps lug the heavy stone with one place to another and soon, they find a rhythm, pick up a pace, fall into step. She wishes he would speak, and wishes the others would stop staring but the sun is shining, the day quiet, save for a gentle song or laughter drifting on the breeze from the tavern. She could get use to this.

_“I’m sorry…”_

The stone has fallen at their feet, ready to be set in place on the wall and Kynan has stopped. Head bowed, fists clenched at his side, voice broken, hollow.

She does not need to ask what he means.

She moves towards him. Slowly. For with every step forward, every step closer to him, she remembers how it was. Fear that she was not strong enough, then or now. Guilt at what her decisions had caused. Agony for every child in Whitestone without a parent, every mother without a child. Every sister without a brother…

The urge to run away, to cry until she is empty, is so strong she almost lets it overwhelm her. But then her hand is on his shoulder and her grip is tight and her voice quiet, barely there.

“What’s done is done. We cannot change the past.”

He takes in a desperate breath and she knows that catch in his throat. 

“I have done… terrible things…”

A pause. Her heart races and her eyes close just for a moment as she finds that courage that still does not come easily.

“So have I…”

It’s such a simple phrase and yet something changes in him. Kynan raises his head. He’s searching her then, making sure she speaks the truth, and it is encouraging. His desperation for another lost soul means not all hope is lost for him. 

Cassandra gestures to the men at work “This wall you rebuild? It was destroyed, partly, because of me. Because of the choices I made. Because… I was not strong.” She waits, and she can feels his gaze on her now. “But look. We start again. We move forward.”

Kynan stares. Blinks. Finds his voice, fraught as it is, unsure if he wants to ask.

“What if we can’t see forward?”

Cassandra gives a small shrug. “Then we find someone to help…”

She moves towards him again, and speaks in a whisper that only he can hear. A nod towards the wall. “If you cannot yet find any penance for your own sins, perhaps you can aid me with mine?” 

She smiles then, slowly but sure and sees the barest hint of a curl form on his lips. He nods. Just once.

She’ll take that.

“Come.” She moves back towards the cart, calling over her shoulder and watching him follow. “There’s still a long way to go…”


End file.
